You Can Only Take so Much
by stripesthetiger11
Summary: Having lost her brother to the Slenderman at the age of five, Elizabeth Gorden has lived her life in grief. But when a mysterious stranger starts killing all the townsfolk and their children, Elizabeth will have to do whatever it takes to save her friends' lives as well as her own. But will doing this mean having to work with the Slenderman? Gore and child death in later chapters.


**Hello all you Slender fans. This will be a break from my first Slender story. *cough* writer's block *cough* I just had to do this!**

**What's that? You don't think I should be doing two stories at once! Well so do I!**

**Unlike my last story, there will be no Creepypasta characters, but I might add Masky and Hoodie.**

**WARNING: I warn ya, there will be a CRAP TON of carnage in this story. So if ya don't like, don't read. But if there's something wrong with your head and you actually like that stuff, by all means, keep reading. This isn't a SlenderxOC story, either. So if you wanted that from me, you're all out of luck.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Slender. I don't own the game, I don't own Slenderman, I don't own his powers, and I don't own anything but this story and a few OCs.**

_When I was a little girl, I had always known that the Tall Man was real. I had no doubt in my mind that he wasn't real. I had seen him myself._

_I was only five when he took my brother. _

_I remember everything. It was a chilly November day. Bits of sunlight leaked from the canopy of the trees. The birds had stopped chirping, the squirrels could be seen frantically running up the trees and back, little brown blurs against an entire background of red and yellow paint. Red and yellow paints that were plastered against the once green grass turned brown, ran up the trees and brushed themselves against every leaf before knocking them down. My brother, a young man at the age of ten, dressed in a plaid shirt and overalls, played in those painted leaves, scooping them into piles only to jump around and spread them around again. My father and mother watched over us from the comfort of the patio, grinning at me brother's crazy antics and constantly shaking their heads with laughter. _

_And there was me, the second blotch in the sea of Autumn leaves. I was a doll girl back then, constantly playing around with my "best friend" Rebecca and wear matching dresses. I would pile up leaves, much smaller than my brother's of course, and throw her in, watching the leaves being thrown out of the way and giggling._

_It was a picture perfect scene for a loving family._

_That is, until my mother and father left to retrieve whoever had knocked on the door._

_There I stood, clutching Rebecca to my chest from the cover of the corner of the fence. My brother, entranced by the charm of a man in a suit. I watched as he took the man's hand and left to play with him. I wanted to play with the tall man as well, but the man only patted my head and left to play, leading my brother out the fence gate with one hand._

_What came next confused me. There were flashes of red and blue, and one uniformed man trying to comfort my wailing mother while my dad was frantically talking to another. _

_I remember specifically walking up to my mother, who was drowning herself in her own tears, and saying, "Why are you crying mommy? Jimmy just wanted to play with Mr. Tall Man."_

"Jimmy," I whispered to myself, sighing at the awful memory of that day. I cursed myself for my photographic memory. I could just like to forget most things of my childhood.

But I don't need to be lost going over my past. I was twenty-one, a grown woman. A grown woman who was late for a date with friends at that!

I got off my computer, shutting it down. I stumbled across my littered floor, making it to the bathroom. I took a look at myself in the mirror, sneering in disgust at the hideous sight. Messy shoulder length brown hair, bags under my light gray eyes, and pale to the point where I was almost lighter than a roll of toilet paper. I wore my tight black sleeveless shirt with no print and some very small denim shorts. Foundation was added to my skin to make me look darker along with mascara, some blush, and lush red lipstick. I straightened out my hair and put in some colored contacts to change the dull color of my eyes. Now I was a green-eyed hottie.

I made a small pose in front of the mirror before walking downstairs, grabbing my purse, and heading out. I got in my Mustang and drove towards my destination.

Since it was late at night, I had a hard time seeing my way through the streets, even with the headlights on. Streetlamps were mere yellow blurs in the sea of black. I watched the buildings pass by, picking through each to find the right one. I was relieved to finally find the right one. It was the city's only night club, where underage teens could get in with enough money and no one would give a care in the world once you died of alcohol poisoning.

I walked in, proving I was twenty-one, and immediately saw my friends at the bar under the rays of party lights. I grinned and skipped over to them, trying not to trip over any of the dancers. My friends saw my face and waved to me, some obviously drunk, seeing as they weren't even looking at me and had silly smiles on their faces.

"Hey, what's up Lizzy?" James shouted out to me. "Nothing much," I responded with a chuckle, sitting down with my six best friends: James, Adrian, April, May, Emma, and Joseph. They all seemed extremely wasted, all except Emma, who was sipping a glass of either water or vodka. "Why aren't you drunk?" I asked with a laugh. Emma, who was a humorless wet blanket, just glanced at Joseph and rolled her eyes, saying, "I'm the designated driver." I felt bad for her, but couldn't help the fact that even though I was about to comfort her, the edges of my lips kept tugging up.

May and April laughed at Emma's face before taking turns drowning down a bottle of whiskey. Adrian was trying to hit on a picky looking female, who was utterly disgusted by the idiot slurring her pick-up lines. James, probably the second least drunk, was trying to convince his wife that he was fine over the phone. As for Joseph, he stumbled over to me, put an arm over my shoulder, and gave me a sloppy wet kiss on the lips. I gladly accepted it, ignoring the complaints of the others, telling us to get a room.

Yes, these were my drunken friends, all special in their own way.

Adrian was an average built, six foot tall, twenty-three year old black man. He had a messy mop of long black dreads that hug over his face and hung over his shoulders, not quite touching them but almost there. He bore bright blue eyes, the ones that I had grown to know and love in my time of need. Today he was wearing a black wife beater and gray sweats, which told me that he had gotten wasted before he had even got here.

James was the complete opposite of Adrian. He was extremely overweight, bald, had dull brown eyes, and looked like he hadn't seen the rays of sun in a decade. He wore a blue plaid, buttoned up shirt complete with a pocket protector, khaki dress pants, and thick as hell glasses. Despite the nerdy appearance, James was no smarter than the average bear. He was nineteen, too young to even be drinking, and he had already gotten a chick pregnant and married her.

April and May were two twenty-one year old Hispanic twin girls who did literally everything together. They both had fizzy brown hair, bright green eyes, cute faces, and slim bodies. They were both wearing the same outfit, (tight light blue shirts that showed the stomach, ripped shorts, and converse) trying to see if they could get some drunken fool to hook up with them.

Emma and Joseph were also siblings, only Emma was four years older with brown hair, brown eyes, and dressed like a guy. Joseph, on the other hand, had dirty blonde hair, was twenty-one like me, had blue eyes, and dressed like a wannabe gangster. Although Emma was the more responsible, and hated Joseph for his remarks and actions as a child, I still love him and always took him home when he was drunk. And Joseph just may have been more than a friend.

Apparently, according my friends, I was called here for no apparent reason but to have fun. Annoyed that I was spending a Sunday night drinking, I sat down and ordered a few drinks. I just hoped this wouldn't end with me being wasted, because the last thing I need is to start off a Monday with a hangover.

…

Thank God I'm not drunk! Sure, my vision is extremely blurry, but I could still make my way around, hell, maybe even drive!

My friends had already left. Emma had gotten tired and forced them all into her car, but I declined her offer to drive me. I was having way too much fun. Often, in between dancing and drinking, I checked the time on my phone. When it finally struck midnight, I decided to leave.

I was buzzed, but I could still drive. I mean, the worst that could happen was crash into some children crossing the road. I stumbled outside and out to the gray blur that was my car.

And somehow, whether it was a miracle from Jesus Christ himself, or just pure dumb luck, I made it home without being pulled over and only hitting a dog on the way. Wow, cops here suck.

As I stumbled out my car and into the driveway, I thought about a nice, long sleep in my bed. Unfortunately, I was distracted from those thoughts by something in the corner of my eye. I turned with a stupid smile on my face, only for it to be wiped off completely. I stared, mouth hanging slightly open and head tilting in confusion.

Across the street, standing under the bright rays of a street lamp, was a man. His body was turned in my direction, but his head was looking down, giving off this somewhat menacing look. I couldn't see exactly what he wore, but I looked like an overly large coat that reached his ankles and a hat. I couldn't see his face for there was something covering to and his legs and his feet were obscured by the shadow his coat gave. Of course, since there was a strange man on the other side of the street, I was a little shaken. Soon I was no longer staring at him, but just full out gawking. Once I realized this, I briefly took my eyes off of him to unlock my door and get inside. I turned to look at him, fearing that he had moved from his original spot.

He was gone.

The creepy man across the street was gone.

Now officially fearing for my life, I slammed the door shut and locked it. Twice. Then I ran upstairs and got out of my party clothes, constantly looking in the mirror or behind my shoulder, half expecting the stranger staring back at me with cold, dead eyes and a sharp-toothed smile. "Elizabeth Gorden, get ahold of yourself!" I muttered angrily.

The alcohol had no effect on me anymore. Nothing was blurry, distorted, or strange. I no longer felt the need to look over my shoulder after a while. Now in a nightgown, I went over to my bedroom window. Scanning the view from two stories up, I found nothing but trees. No man, just trees. I should have known, too. I mean, I live right next to a forest.

After Jim had been abducted by the strange man in a suit, my parents had grown depressed. I've learned about the five stages of grief before in Health in my old high school, and according to the process, my parents had never gotten out of the depression stage. My dad left my mother, blaming her for the loss of their son, and my mother just stayed inside every day. Eventually, my mother couldn't take it and took a gun to her head. I was seven when I was put in an orphanage, and no one wanted me because all I could do was talk about my parents or the tall man in the suit. At eighteen, I got out. I learned that my dad had gotten in a drunk driving accident and died from driving off the edge of a highway. They left all their money to me, which was enough to buy my old house back. No one had wanted to buy it since it was built near a forest that was full of bears and possible serial killers. I gladly to moved into it, not caring for the warnings they gave me about the forest. Here I was able to get over my losses and get a job, which was a babysitter. Not high paying, but it gets bills and food out of the way, including the money I had left over from my parents.

I've always loved the beautiful view of the forest, especially at night. I gazed upon the beautiful scenery, taking in the fruit bats that would fly back and forth, or the owls that would sit on the branches for me to admire. After a few minutes of sightseeing, I decided that it was near one in the morning, and that I should rest. I sat on the edge of my bed, yawning, but not quite ready to fall into slumber.

After a while, I turned off the lights and lay down. I closed my eyes, ready to pass out, but I couldn't help but get a feeling.

The feeling that something really, really bad was going to happen tonight.

_P.O.V Switch_

Curse that wretched figure! Curse his soul and send him into everlasting torture! Dare he cross my path again and I would take much pleasure in ripping him into pieces.

This man, this human had such bravery, willingly and repeatedly stepping foot into _my _forest! As I stood in amongst the trees, searching for the offender, I thought about how fun it would be to seen the pain in his eyes; to see him scream and writhe in pain in my hands.

And then I saw him: the man, woman, or thing that dared to question my power. I stood there, leaning against one of the many trees that flourished in my domain. Body and arms obscured by a large coat, face unrecognizable due to the fabric covering it, and that hat that hid the hair on his head. Oh I would like to tear that hat off his head and rip his scalp clean off. Oh, how I hated the hat.

He did it again. He got up from the tree, and lifted an arm. I thought it was a sign of offence, so I kept my guard up. But instead of trying to make some sort of fist, he brung his hand to the brim of his hat, and tipped it. Then he ran.

I, of course, followed, slenderwalking towards his location and grabbing at him with my eight tendrils, only for him to jump, skip, and duck out of the way of each one. I ripped out chunks of rock and dirt and hurled them at the figure, but to no avail. He was agile, and was running for the fence. I clawed, slashed, and stabbed at him, but to my disbelief, he had jumped over the fence and onto the other side without even a scratch on him. I found myself fuming with rage, slamming my fist into a tree and watching as it was uprooted and tipped over.

Watching him dash away, I nearly went after him, but decided against it. He would be back. This man or woman could not and would not keep this up. It was a matter of time before he faltered and was in my grasp.

Oh, how that will be wonderful.

**Did ya like it? If so, please leave a comment and tell me what ya think! **

**Want Masky and Hoodie? Then comment and say so! Otherwise, they stay out of this.**

**No trolls, because they will be burned over a bucket of flames.**

**Remember kids: Supernatural all powerful beings that eat children have feelings, too.**


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